


Party Like It's 1941

by The_Marauders_Daughter



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, BAMF Sarah Rogers, Darcy in the 1940s, F/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Soulmarks, Tony Stark Is Not Helping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 04:03:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9160450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Marauders_Daughter/pseuds/The_Marauders_Daughter
Summary: Darcy told Jane not to do science. Did she listen? No, of course not, so now here she is, stuck in 1941 with no way to get home. Thank you, Jane.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [McGregorsWench](https://archiveofourown.org/users/McGregorsWench/gifts).



> My first time writing a Soulmarks story- hope I did it well!
> 
> Present for McGregorsWench for the 2016 Steve/Darcy Christmas Fic Exchange

#####  **Part 1: 49 Hours**

_Everyone is born with a Mark on their skin, bearing the first words their Soulmate with speak to them, in their handwriting. Words unsaid are brown; spoken Marks are black; and if your Mate is gone, their Words fade._

_***_

_July 4 th, 1918_

Sarah Rogers was a worrier. She worried about her baby’s health. She worried about getting enough food on the table. She worried about the kind of person that would love her son one day.

She sighed as she rubbed the faded words on her arm. _‘Joseph Rogers, nice to meet you.’_ Sarah had been one of the lucky ones, with a Mark that included her Soulmate’s name. She had never imagined that her love would be so strong, or that her Soulmate would die just a year after meeting him. She had never imagined that their son would be born so sick, or that he would have a strange Mark on his own body.

Sarah had faith, though. She had faith in God, and in Fate, and in love. She knew her son would live, live to meet the love of his life and be happy, even if it was for the briefest of times, like her. She just had one question:

What in the name of heaven was a _hipster?_

* * *

  _December 19 th, 2015_

“Jane, will you please take the fucking water already?!” Darcy just needed Jane to eat and drink _something._ If she could keep her scientist occupied, ten minutes, max, she could run to Starbucks, her wallet was already in her pocket. If only she could make Jane understand that she couldn't connect the generator to the power grid until she had either two hours of sleep or two liters of coffee under her belt…

The doors to the lab opened and closed with a futuristic _whoosh_ and a voice rang out, “Jesus, Foster, just take it and make Lewis shut up.”

“You know what, Tony? _Bite me.”_

“Bite this, Janie.” Darcy stuck a banana into Jane’s mouth and switched the PopTart in her hand for a water bottle. “Thor will kill me if I let you get dehydrated again.”

“You need to hydrate, Foster,” Tony winked. “Makes long-distance-phone-sex better.”

Darcy would have bemoaned her loss of appetite, but she'd gone two days of full-on Science! with Jane and she wasn't about to pass up the pastry in her grasp. “That makes no sense. Why are you here, Stark? We're still not at the testing stage.”

“Not according to Jane; she sent me a message that the bridge was good to go.”

Darcy turned to her friend with fire in her eyes. “Jane…”

“I'm sorry but it's true!” she screeched. Jane on a two-day science bender was not a pretty sight. “If we can just do a dry run, or better yet a pilot test, we can see if the generator is capable of handling the energy necessary to power the bridge.”

“Jane, you haven't slept if 49 hours!”

“That's what makes us mad scientists, Lewis,” Tony said. He was a tolerable asshole most of the time, but his attitude was making it really hard for Darcy to forget that she hadn't slept in 49 hours either. “Come on, I'll make it worth your while.”

“Ms. Potts signs my paycheck and there's no way I can condone a laboratory exercise when two of the three participants are about to drop dead asleep and the other is still technically on bed rest for letting himself be crushed by a falling metal beam!”

“Blame Cap for that one. Lighten up, Lewis.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, silver rectangle. “I’ll make it worth your while…”

Darcy groaned when she realized Tony had her iPod in his hand. “What the hell is the matter with you? I've been looking for that everywhere and you swore you didn't steal it. Again.”

“New and improved, as promised,” he continued as if she hadn't spoken. “Arc reactor battery, so this bad boy will never die; there's a link to Friday and the Avengers facility; it tracks your location at all times after that unfortunate kidnapping incident; _and_ I even made it Bluetooth capable. It's pretty, right?”

Darcy snatched it out of his hand and stuffed it in her pocket. “Pretty is me not having to kill you for stealing my iPod. Fine,” she huffed, rolling her eyes when Tony and Jane cheered. _“One_ pilot test, that is it, and if anything goes wrong, I'm telling Pepper it was all your idea!”

Everything was going right as they connected the generator to the power grid.

Everything was going right as they plugged in the coordinates to Asgard, where Heimdall would be able to track their progress.

And then they threw the switch, and everything went wrong.

There was a large surge of power, and then a booming explosion. Tony reacted on instinct, diving behind a table with lighting reflexes, but he was still able to see Darcy push Jane out of the way of the explosion before being swallowed up in a wave of bright blue light. The light pulsed once, twice, and then she was gone.

* * *

Darcy woke up with a splitting headache and the worst case of dry-mouth that she’d ever had. She cursed Jane, she cursed Tony, and she cursed the sun because that little fucker was shining bright enough for her to see it even behind her eyelids.

“Miss Lewis?”

Darcy forced her eyes open and saw the brightest blue eyes she’d ever seen staring down at her. “Holy shit. I’m dead.”

The woman gave a little laugh and helped Darcy sit up, handing her a glass of water before Darcy could ask. “Not quite, Miss Lewis. You’re in the hospital.” There was something about the woman’s accent that immediately put Darcy at ease. “Can you remember what happened to you?”

Darcy opened her mouth to answer when she focused on the woman’s face—damn, where were her glasses? —and saw that she was dressed in a nurse’s outfit straight out of a black-and-white movie. Tony had a twisted sense of humor, but she knew Pepper would never have let him dictate what the medics in the Tower wore. Her heart jumped to her stomach as she realized the bed she was in was an old-timey metal cot. Her brain searched desperately for an explanation; the simplest one jumped to mind, and Darcy closed her mouth to avoid throwing up all over the Twilight Zone. “No, ma’am,” she said eventually, “I don’t remember.”

“I called the doctor, he’ll be here soon.”

“No doctor, please, I’m feeling fine.” She tried to get out of bed and immediately jumped back in. “Not dressed, ok. Where are my clothes, please?”

The nurse handed them to her, along with a pointed look that put Darcy’s Nona’s to shame. “I wouldn’t recommend leaving yet, Miss Lewis.”

“I don’t want to be any trouble,” Darcy said, slipping her bra on under her gown before freezing. “How do you know my name?”

The woman pulled out a small, laminated card— Darcy’s driver’s license.

“Shit.”

“I’d say,” the nurse said, although her glare softened. “Tell me, Miss Lewis, what is one supposed to think when a young woman is found unconscious in an alley, dressed like a strange man, bearing identification from… over 50 years in the future?”

She was right. God damn, she was right. Holy fuck, she was right—Darcy took a deep breath and put on her best BS face. “The circus is in town?” The nurse did not look amused, and Darcy looked around to make sure they were alone in the room. “Would you believe me that I’m from the future?”

“That might explain a few things,” the nurse said, sitting down beside her on the bed. “I think you need to start talking.”

“There’s not a lot to tell, tbh,” Darcy said. The nurse gave her a strange look, and Darcy corrected herself. “To be honest, sorry, I'm tired and this is freaking me out. Ok, I was working in a lab and there was an accident and _poof_ , here I am. Where am I, exactly?”

“New York City.”

“Ok, so I’m in the same place. Then, uh… _when_ am I?”

“December 20th, 1940.”

“Ok.” Darcy took a deep breath and rubbed her eyes. “Ok. Ok ok ok ok…”

“Is time travel not… common?”

“A lot of things are common, lady, but time travel ain’t one of them.” Darcy looked around, deciding on what to do next. “Ok. Ok. Ok.”

“Are you alright?”

“I’m—”

“Ok,” the nurse said, smiling. “Very well, Miss Lewis. I don’t think either one of us wants to end up in an asylum—”

“Damn, they still have those?”

“I recommend hiding your things and finding something else for you to wear.”

“Right, good plan. I’ll— I’ll try to get back. Maybe where I was found has some clues, or I can send a letter to myself in the future, or—”

“Miss Lewis.”

“Right, right, one step at a time.” Darcy took a deep breath and stuck a hand out to the nurse. “Thank you for helping me. I think introductions are in order. I’m Darcy Lewis.”

“A pleasure, Miss Lewis. My name is Sarah Rogers.”

 

* * *

* * *

 

#####  **Part 2: Dodgers, Bricks, and Hipsters**

_Before WWI, Soulmarks were a very private matter, allowing the polite courting of mates only. After WWI began, the-end-of-the-world mentality took over, and many children were born from non-matches._

_***_

_December, 1940_

Sarah Rogers was unreal. She got Darcy out of the hospital and sweet talked a church into some clothes from the poor box—bras and stockings, holy shit, she was never going to complain about spanx ever again—and got her a job interview with an unreal amount of skill. _“It's my best friend’s daughter, she's an excellent worker and a quick learner, have a heart, it's almost Christmas.”_ She could have been an actress.

Sarah laughed at her compliment, but Darcy couldn't help feeling indebted to her, especially since 1940 was still in the tail end of the Great Depression and WWII was just right around the corner. She even tried to get Darcy to stay with her. “Don't be ridiculous,” she insisted, explaining she had a spare room.

“I couldn't, Sarah.” Darcy was determined to do at least something on her own, even if it was finding a roommate.

***

Colleen O’Brien was another miracle. Darcy was walking home from the supermarket one day, not particularly eager to reach the halfway house she'd been staying in for the last week. She had never been more grateful for being a starving college student, it was great practice for a paltry paycheck and overpriced bread. Darcy had been so engrossed in keeping her shoes out of puddles, she never noticed the woman walking her way until she knocked her over.

Colleen apologized and offered to buy her a cup of coffee, and they quickly hit it off, and when Colleen told her she was desperate for a roommate to avoid losing her apartment, Darcy jumped all in.

* * *

_May, 1941_

Life in the 1940s was not the worst thing that had ever happened to Darcy (the Destroyer in New Mexico and the Dark Elves in London still featured prominently in her nightmares), but that did not mean she wasn’t desperate to go back home. She hoped Tony was figuring out how to bring her back, and she knew Jane wouldn’t rest until she was back home safe and sound. Darcy kept her wallet and iPod hidden in the depths of her underwear drawer, and her clothes were hiding under a loose floorboard in the apartment.

In the meantime, she adjusted. Darcy worked as a secretary in a small law office in Brooklyn, and she swore she’d never complain about entry level positions ever again. She was hardly efficient (dictation was a thing and shorthand was a bitch, and the less said about how long it took her to learn to work a typewriter, the better), but she knew enough about the business to know her bosses were incompetent misogynists who tried to pinch her butt when she made coffee, and that her filing system and helpful notes added to most of the documents were half the reason anything got done in the office.

Between her future mannerisms and desperate lack of filter, Darcy made few friends; she was afraid to get too attached to anyone who would be dead by the time she got back home, but she still met with Sarah at least once a week and hung out with Colleen whenever she wasn’t working at the phone company. Sharing an apartment was great, and the only point of contention was Colleen’s constant dating. It wouldn't have been a problem, except that she was always trying to get Darcy to double with her.

“Come on, Darce,” Colleen whined. “Bucky is—”

“A gift from god?” She laughed at Colleen’s expression. “Just don’t get pregnant. I’m not that great with kids.”

“Shut up, Darcy.” She threw a shoe at Darcy, who only caught it and waved it around like a trophy. “Please? He made his friend sound sweet, and Bucky won’t want to take me out unless I bring someone to double-date with.”

“That sounds sketchy. Who bullies someone into a double-date? Does his friend have an extra eye, or really bad breath?”

“Darcy! I swear—”

“Liar,” she grinned. “You are a model lady.” Darcy sat down and sighed. “Fine, but only because I love you.” She burst into laughter when Colleen squealed and threw herself into her arms for a bone-crushing hug. “I’ll go, but on one condition.”

***

_May 25 th, 1941_

“Is there a particular reason you like the Dodgers?” Colleen asked as they walked towards Ebbets Field.

“It’s the _Dodgers_ , Colleen.”

“I just didn’t peg you for a baseball fan.”

“Who doesn’t love baseball?” she smiled. “Men in tight pants, the thrill of the final inning, and everyone yelling at someone to kill the umpire. If that isn’t the American dream, I don’t know what is.”

“You’re too silly, Darcy.”

“And you’re too pretty,” she answered. “Come on, let’s get to the stadium before all the good seats are gone.”

“Wait, we’re meeting Bucky and his friend, remember?” 

Darcy grumbled about the extra wait time—she didn’t know when the Dodgers were moving away to LA, after all, and Grandpa Lewis would turn in his grave if she missed an opportunity to see his team at home. She changed her opinion a bit later when she caught sight of Bucky. “Well, shit,” she said by way of introduction, making Colleen blush with embarrassment and Bucky bend over laughing. “Ok, fine, I concede. Double-date is already worth it.”

“Darcy isn't much for going out,” Colleen explained after Bucky gave her a kiss on the cheek. “She only agreed after I said she could choose the location.”

“I like your choice,” Bucky said. “Steve was all smiles after I told him you dames picked a Dodgers game.”

“He's a fan?” Colleen asked at the same time Darcy looked around, asking “where is this mysterious Steve?”

“Steve and I are Brooklyn boys, through and through. He’s running late—don't worry, Darcy, he wouldn't miss a game for the world, especially with such a lovely date.” He winked, making Darcy giggle.

“My kind of guy. In that case, I’ll let you two get a bit more acquainted until he gets here. I'm gonna go… powder my nose or something.”

Darcy left Colleen and Bucky alone in each other's arms. It wasn't for long, because two minutes later Steve showed up, wiping at his hands with a charcoal stained handkerchief and a ready apology on his lips.

“You can't be serious,” Bucky said, pulling away from Colleen.

“Hi, nice to meet you, Steve,” Colleen said.

“Likewise.” Steve almost shook her hand before remembering that his was still a mess. “Sorry about that.”

“Don't worry about it.”

Steve looked up at Bucky with look number 17 on his face: ‘ _my date ditched me, didn't she?’_

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Darcy went to the restroom. Why don't you see if you find her, maybe clean up a bit?”

Steve answered with look number 3: ‘ _fuck you, Buck.’_

Colleen told him what Darcy looked like, and Steve was heading to the restrooms when he heard angry voices coming from a small, tucked away corridor. He thought to leave the strangers in what was sure to be a private argument, but something inside steered him towards the voices.

A large man had a woman pressed into the corner, so Steve couldn’t see her face, but based on the way her hands were fisted on her purse, she wasn’t happy about it. “Come on,” the man’s words were slimy even to Steve’s ears. “Just askin’ for one small kiss, dollface.”

“What part of ‘no’ isn’t clicking in your head, asshat?” the woman snapped. “You’ve gotta have syphilis on the brain, dude, so I’ll say this slow one last time: leave me the fucking hell alone or I’ll make sure you’re the end of your family line.”

“I like a bitch with fire,” the man said, reaching out to cup her face.

“Hey!” Steve yelled, using his deepest voice. The man whirled around, only for his expression to drop into a smirk when his saw it was only Steve. Steve was more used to that reaction than he probably needed to be, but he still pressed on. “The lady wants you to leave her alone.”

“Oh, yeah,” the man sneered. “Well, I don't see her putting up a big fight.”

He turned around just in time for the woman to whack him over the head with an honest-to-god brick. He fell like a house of cards and the woman let out a cry of triumph before kicking him right between the legs.

“Where's your damsel-in-distress now, bitch?” The man only groaned, and she threw up her hands in victory. “Just got pwned, punk!” She slid the brick into her purse and her eyes finally rested on Steve. “Thanks for the rescue, dude. Cute hipster, though, last thing I was expecting, tbh.”

His jaw dropped, both at her words and her beauty, because _Lord almighty,_ and he struggled to get any words out. The man behind her started stirring and without thinking Steve said, “I think you need to get the brick again, he’s getting back up.”

The woman’s mouth fell open, but she still got her weapon and clobbered her attacker again. She stepped on his balls again for good measure. “Asshole.” She stepped over him and tucked a curl nervously behind her ear. “Hey, Soulmate, I think you’re my Soulmate, it’s gonna be awkward if you’re not, but hey, we should probably get out of here, because that isn’t going to keep douche-canoe out for long and I’m pretty sure neither of us can flirt or cute our way out of a manslaughter charge.” The man moaned and the woman reached out to grab Steve’s hand. “Run.”

They flew like bats from hell and Steve didn’t know if the burning in his lungs was the effort of fleeing, or an asthma attack coming on, or the mere exposure to the laughing woman who was dragging him along. They came to an abrupt stop at the top of some stairs and both bent over, struggling to catch their breath. “Holy shit,” the woman panted. She muttered under her breath, something that sounded vaguely like “damn, I’m outta shape, hey, I can run in heels, that’s new,” but Steve was still hearing his blood pumping through his ears, so that might have been wrong. “I always wanted to do that.”

“Meet your soulmate or knock a man out with a brick?” he laughed.

“You,” she grinned. “Because of you I have carried a brick in my bag since I was 13 years old.”

“13?”

“I was a romantic kid,” she shrugged, standing up properly again. “Darcy Lewis,” she said, sticking out her hand.

Steve started laughing. “You're my blind date!”

“You've gotta be kidding me!” she cried. “You're Steve?”

“Steve Rogers, at your service.”

Darcy’s face went slack, and in the blink of an eye she was kissing him. Steve reacted on instinct; her soft, silky lips triggered something inside him, and he kissed her back, wrapped his arms around her waist. Darcy made a pleased sound at that, and deepened the kiss, letting her teeth nip gently at his bottom lip, sending shivers down his back and making his hands start wandering a bit further down than he was supposed to, really, this was strangely out of character for him, but Darcy was in his arms and it was as if his brain had thrown a switch that made everything else seem a lot less important…

He felt a soft whump on top of his head and pulled away with a scowl, ready to pummel whoever interrupted him.

_“Steve!”_

“Oh, hi Bucky, Colleen,” Darcy said, wiping at the corner of her mouth with a grin. “Look, I found Steve.”

“I can see that,” Colleen said slowly, fishing a handkerchief from her purse. She handed it over to Steve, who blushed and wiped Darcy’s lipstick from his mouth. “Can you explain why you’re kissing him in the middle of the stands?”

“Jesus, punk,” Bucky snapped, smacking the back of his head again. “Your ma raised you better than this.”

“Bucky, this is Darcy Lewis,” he said pointedly, leveling his friend with a glare that belies his frame. “My _Soulmate.”_

Immediately they were swept up in a tight hug, and Colleen’s squeals made Darcy’s ears ring. “Colleen, for fuck’s sake, knock it off before you burst an eardrum!”

Both men stared in open mouthed shock as Colleen laughed off Darcy’s profanities and hugged her friend again. “Darcy, you found your Mate!”

“Didn’t I just tell you that, woman?" She didn’t even pretend to sound annoyed.

“Just shut up and let me be happy for you.”

Off to the side, Bucky slapped a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “What a dame.”

Steve was still stunned from the kiss. “You don’t know the half of it.” He explained how he’d found Darcy, which almost made Colleen burst into another wave of tears and beg her friend to go home and recover.

“Colleen, I’m not some pansy-ass lady overcome by vapors,” she said, making her roommate roll her eyes at her dramatics. “I’m ok. Believe me, I’ve been through worse.”

“Have you really?” Bucky asked, scanning her over with a worried, well-practiced eye.

Darcy just smirked at Steve. “That guy’s not the only one I’ve used my brick on.”

Colleen moaned and buried her head in her hands. “Darcy, you used your brick? You promised me—”

“What? My mother always told me to carry protection. Just be glad my words said ‘brick’ and not ‘knife’ or else we’d be scrubbing some blood out of my dress.”

“So, you’re a fighter?” Steve asked, which only made Darcy burst into laughter and wrap her arm around his.

“Sweetheart, you have no idea.”

Bucky groaned. “God, there’s two of you.”

* * *

Darcy insisted they stay for the game, Steve insisted they go somewhere to eat afterwards, and it was Bucky insisting that they walk the girls home that led to all four sitting in Darcy’s small living room, perched on beds and chairs and drinking enough coffee to ensure that Darcy couldn’t sleep even if she hadn’t met her Soulmate.

The universe had a sick sense of humor; her Soulmate was _Captain fucking America._ How the hell could she have lived for years with him within arm’s reach and never met him? Yeah, she’d drooled over his uniformed pictures as much as any red-blooded girl (and many guys), but she would had never, in a million years, have dreamed that he was her Mate. And yet, here she was, sitting next to pre-serum Steve, sipping coffee and not even trying to avoid eying each other up.

Darcy had never prescribed herself to the Disney version of Soulmates—meeting your Mate was always followed by a kiss and a wedding, and everything was happily ever after; it was stupid to think life worked that way, and if Darcy Lewis was anything, she was a realist. She understood little of the biology of Soulmarks (even the experts were guessing most of the time), and she’d seen a few friends meet their Mates, realizing that a period of being stunned silly was not the case for everyone (Jane and Thor came to mind). Still, she couldn’t help the warmth coursing through her chest, the little hiccup of excitement that refused to settle in her stomach the slight pull she felt demanding she lean over and close the gap between her body and Steve’s... 

“Do you feel it too?”

She turned to see Steve smiling down at her—completely unfair, by the way, that even past-Steve was taller than her—and she automatically smiled back. “I’m feeling a lot of things right now, Rogers.”

“It’s a tickle,” he continued with a grin, reaching a hand back to touch his left shoulder blade. “My Mark’s been ticking since I met you.”

“Really?” She reached for him, stopping just before her hand touched his chest. “Can... can I see it?” She looked down, feeling uncharacteristically shy all of a sudden, not wanting him to think badly of her. It was stupid, she’d just finished telling everyone an edited Darcy-tale so raunchy even Bucky turned bright red, he wasn't going to—

Steve tugged at the buttons of his shirt, revealing a clean white undershirt beneath, and Darcy automatically positioned herself to see him better. Vaguely, she heard Bucky asking Colleen to join him for a smoke outside, but she couldn't bring herself to care. “It’s... I’m not... you should know that—”

Darcy cut him off with a quick peck to the lips. She was sure she knew what he was going to say. “It’s going to be hard, not jumping your bones,” she said lightly, “but I’ll try to control myself.”

He laughed at that, and soon his shirt was off and he was pulling the neck of his shirt to the side. Darcy felt her breath catch in her throat, because there, just inches from her, were her words marked on his body. _'_ _Thanks for the rescue, dude. Cute hipster, though, last thing I was expecting, tbh.”'_ She reached a hand out to trace the uneven, curly letters of her handwriting, and instinctively leaned down to press a kiss on his Mark. Steve gasped and Darcy’s lips felt like they’d been branded.

They stared at each other for a minute, before Steve let go of his shirt and turned to face her. “Could I see yours?”

Darcy immediately stood up, unlacing the belt at her waist and dropping it on the bed. Steve stammered as she deftly undid the buttons of her dress down her front, stopping at her bellybutton and tugging at her bra straps so she could loosen the fabric enough to tug it over her left breast. She could feel herself breathing heavily, watching as Steve reached out to her. He hesitated, just long enough for Darcy to reach out and pull his hand to her chest. The slight itching sensation she’d though was a rogue hair dissipated in a sudden wave of pure happiness. Oh, _shit_. She thought people had been exaggerating about the Soulmates’ first touch, but then Steve bent his head to press his lips to her Mark and her head fell back with a cry. Suddenly his lips were on hers and they were on her bed, pulling at each other, and Steve’s hands went under her dress and her hands were at his belt and they were tugging and gripping and kneading and—

Steve pulled back with a moan, panting like he’d just run a race and trying to control his breathing. Darcy belatedly remembered that he had asthma and sat up, trying to see if he needed help. He pushed Darcy gently off his lap—when the hell had she straddled him? —and helped her lay down next to him. “I'm sorry,” he gasped.

“Don't be,” she answered, trying to recover her own breath. “I said I’d jump you.”

That made him laugh, and she sighed, nuzzling into his side. “I’m a gentleman, I promise.”

“I’m a shameless hussy, so I think you got the better end of this bargain.” She could feel him snort at her response and she sighed again. “I feel... happy.”

He tensed. “That’s a bad thing?”

“I haven’t had much to feel happy about lately,” she admitted. “And you were the furthest thing on my radar, to be honest. But I just met you and I already feel like I’ve known you my entire life.”

“You’re not the only one,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her hair. “If I’m honest with you, I didn’t think I’d ever meet me Soulmate.”

That sent a shiver down Darcy’s back, and not the good kind. “Well, Steve, we found each other. I hope I don’t scare you off, but we’re stuck together now.”

“I can think of worst ways to spend our time together.” He shifted, lying down so he could face her. “I wouldn’t mind being stuck with you.”

She smiled, flicking a finger across his nose. “Stop teasing, handsome. As much as I would love to explore this newly Matched thing in more detail, Colleen and Bucky are outside and it wouldn’t be fair to them for us to fuck in here.”

Steve blushed at her words and refused to meet her eyes. “About that...”

“Oh god,” she groaned. “Please don’t tell me you’re a no-sex-until-marriage guy.” He bit down on his lip and buried his face in the crook of her neck. “I’m gonna die of deprivation, goddamn it.”

* * *

* * *

 

**Part 3: Mother Knows Best**

_After WWI, people returned to keeping their words private; however, the existence of so many children outside of matched Soulmates opened the door to the freedom of dating, with some choosing relationships with non-Mates._

*******

Darcy wondered if women could get blue balls. She asked Colleen, who only laughed, and Steve and Bucky, who blushed for very different reasons. The first few days passed in a blur of emotions and kisses and long talks, punctuated by Darcy’s shifts at the office and Steve going to art class or driving delivery trucks. He also apparently illustrated Tijuana bibles to earn a little extra cash.

“What are Tijuana bibles?” asked Darcy.

Steve tried to stammer an explanation, but Bucky beat him to the punch by handing his latest draft to Darcy. “Knock yourself out, doll.”

She gasped at his drawings, and Steve sucker punched Bucky for it. “Now she’s going to think that I’m a pervert, great going, jerk.”

“She’s not looking grossed out, punk,” Bucky said before Darcy launched herself at his side, raving about his talent and how she wanted him to draw her, as soon as he got over his unwillingness to see her naked.

“Please let’s not talk about naked people,” Bucky complained, “especially you, Darcy.”

Darcy put her hands on her hips and stood in her best pissed off stance. “What’s the matter with the idea of me being naked?”

“Nothing, absolutely nothing, doll, I promise, you—you’re a great looking dame, I mean, truly…” his face fell when Darcy bent in half and laughed. “Darcy?”

“The look on your face!” She gasped for air, grabbing desperately onto Steve to stay on her feet. “It’s hilarious!”

“You’re not funny,” he glared.

“And you’re adorable,” she smiled. “Come on, let’s go meet my future mother-in-law.”

Steve had wanted Darcy to meet his mom nearly the moment they’d met, and Darcy had postponed her lunch with Sarah to commit. As they walked towards Steve’s mother’s house, however, she realized she hadn’t needed to be so worried. “Just out of curiosity, Steve, what’s your mom’s name?”

“Sarah.”

“Of course it is.” She smiled as they walked up to her apartment, and they knocked on the door. Sarah opened the door, looking confused at seeing Darcy standing with Steve. “Looks like there’s only one Sarah Rogers in New York.”

“Darcy?” Sarah looked back and forth between her and Steve. “You’re Steve’s Soulmate?”

“That’s what my mark says,” Darcy laughed as Steve asked, “you two know each other?”

Sarah took a moment to process, and suddenly they were all wrapped inside a hug. “Oh my god,” she cried. “It’s real.”

“Of course we’re real, Ma,” Steve said, gently pulling away from the embrace. “Are you feeling alright?”

“I am, _a leanbh,”_ she said, wiping the water from her eyes. “I just hope the fates have a better plan for you than I can see.”  
”You’re worrying me, Ma. What are you talking about? And how do you two know each other?”

“Have you told him?” asked Sarah.

Darcy shook her head. “It’s only been a few days, and I didn’t want to scare him off.”

“What are you two talking about?

“Let’s go inside for some tea.” They walked inside and Darcy automatically started her usual set-up for when she visited Sarah. “Darcy, I can take care of that.”

“It’s ok, Sarah, I can talk better if my hands are busy.”

“I think you may need to sit down for this part.”

Darcy put the water on the stove and sat down at the table, Steve across from her and Sarah at her side. “Ok, I’ll do this like a band-aid. Steve, I’m from the future.”

Steve blinked. “Is this a joke?”

Darcy felt her heart jump out of her chest and she started talking as fast as she could. “Everything I’ve told you so far about me is true—I am from Pennsylvania, I do work at a law firm, all of that is true.”

“But?”

“But I was born in 1990.”

Steve’s jaw dropped. “What?” He turned to Sarah, who only pushed his face to look back at Darcy.

“Keep going,” she instructed gently.

“I was a research assistant in December 2015, and my boss was trying to open a portal to a different world. There was a lab accident, and I was hit with something that sent me to December 1940. I was found unconscious in an alley and when I woke up, Sarah was my nurse. She helped me escape and get to where I am today.”

“And you didn’t tell me because—”

“Because I didn’t want to say ‘nice to meet you, Soulmate, I’m from the future and I know what’s going to happen, hey, where did that straight-jacket come from?’”

“And you lied to me about it?” He winced when Sarah smacked him upside the head. “Ma! I’m sorry, but this is a lot to process.”

Darcy reached into her bag and pulled out her pocketbook. Tucked in a secret pocket was her driver’s license and she handed it over. “This was enough proof for Sarah. I hope it’s enough for you.”

The tea was long ready by the time he looked up from the laminated card. “If you’re from the future, what are you still doing here?”

“Time travel was an accident; I know my boss has to be looking for me, but I don’t know how to get back, or if she’ll even be able to find me. I decided to just wait it out, and it was looking pretty bleak, but then I met you and suddenly everything makes a lot more sense, and it wouldn’t be fair of the universe to keep me here.”

“What does that mean? Do you know me in the future? What happens?”

“She’s not going to say anything,” Sarah said, and Darcy emphasized the point by crossing her arms. “Something about the time-space continuum and butterflies causing tornados.”

“I know things about the future, and if I reveal too much it could change things for the worse and in a few years that becomes really important and I don’t want to jeopardize anything affecting anyone at all.”

“You’re talking about the war, aren’t you? You just said something happens in a few years.”

“That’s something general. I’m talking specifics.”

“But if you told us—”

“No.” She stood up and paced around the kitchen. “I’m not saying anything, even if I never go back to my time. I can’t risk it.”

“Ok.” Steve stood up and looked down at his feet. “I’m just going to take some air.”

He walked out the door and Darcy collapsed in her chair. “He’s gonna leave me.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Sarah snapped. “He’s not.”

“I’ve known him all of two days and I’m already half in love with him and I just scared him away.” She groaned and looked up at Sarah. “Fate hates me.”

Sarah leaned over and took her hand in hers. “I want you to listen to me very carefully, Darcy Lewis.” Darcy leaned in, entranced by the blaze burning in Sarah’s bright blue eyes. “You are a very special person. You are smart, and kind, and a good friend. I have never met anyone like you, and I am happy that my son gets to love you. The fates have a plan for you, I’m sure, but in the meantime, I am selfish enough to want you around as long as possible.”

“Oh, Sarah…” Darcy sniffed and found herself crying. “I don’t deserve half of what you said.”

“Nonsense,” she smiled. “Stevie’s Soulmate doesn’t deserve any less. For what it’s worth, you have my blessing.” She looked around her back at the door. “Steven Grant Rogers, get back in here and make your girl feel better.”

Darcy turned to see Steve leaning against the doorjamb; he walked over and knelt by her chair. “Darce?”

“I’m sorry for lying to you,” she said, trying not to look at his eyes

He moved her head upwards, a move he learned from Sarah, she realized. “I’m sorry for walking out. I promise, I’ll never leave like that again.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” she warned, thinking about everything that laid ahead for him as Captain America.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and she felt a wave of calm run through her. “I can keep this one.”

* * *

_July, 1941_

The fates might not have made such a big mistake leaving Darcy in the 40s. Colleen had gotten a raise at work, leaving her finally able to afford an apartment on her own, so Darcy and Steve had moved in together—a move that had shocked Bucky more than Sarah, surprisingly—and it all worked remarkably well. Life wasn’t idyllic—they still argued about whose turn it was to wash the dishes, like most normal couples, and rarely got to spend as much time together as they wanted, but everything else made Darcy feel like she didn’t need to go home. The longer she spent in the 40s, she started feeling like maybe she didn’t want to.

Steve cut across her thoughts from across the table. “Uh… Darcy?” He held up the strange block that she’d been using as a paperweight. “What’s this?”

Darcy looked up from the files she’d ‘borrowed’ from work, careful to keep them separated from his sketches for school. “I told you I was from the future,” she grinned. “That is an iPod. They were invented in the early-to-mid 2000s so you could listen to music.”

“Music? On this thing?” He pushed the big center button. Nothing happened. “How can you play records on this thing. It's not even turning on.”

“Quality Stark technology,” she sneered. “It's broken. And we don't really do much with records anymore. That thing? Over ten thousand songs, lover.”

“Ten—” Steve nearly fumbled the thing. “You can't— ten thousand songs can't exist, there's no way!”

“2015 says otherwise, Steve.” She turned back to her papers with renewed vigor, leaving Steve free to poke at her iPod with less finesse. He couldn't break it any more, he reasoned, toggling the lone switch at the top and pressing all the buttons. He pressed down on the little triangle shape at the bottom, just holding it down to see if it—

The glass panel glowed a bright white, a tiny bitten apple appearing in black. “Darcy!”

She whirled around to see him all but throw the iPod at her, and her jaw dropped. “Oh my god…” her eyes teared up as the white screen flashed, revealing a familiar little menu in its place. “Oh my god.”

“Darcy—?” She launched herself at Steve, kissing every bit of him that she could reach, crying and hugging him as hard as she could. “Darcy?”

_“Oh my god!”_ She pulled away, wiping at her eyes and kissing him hard again. “Oh my god!”

“Darcy, I need more words than that.”

“I love you.”

Steve’s heart skipped a beat, just like every time she said those words, and he kissed her back with a laugh. “I love you too, Darce, but I still have no idea what you're so flustered about.”

Darcy raced to the kitchen and came back with a small knife. “I'll show you.” She took her purse in hand and carefully sliced along the lining, crying again as she pulled out a long, white cord. It bifurcated at one end, finishing in two small disks. She put the single end into her iPod, and one of the disks to her ear. “Come here, Soulmate.”

Steve went, only wincing a little when she shoved the disk in his ear. “You're starting to scare me, Darcy.”

“Good.” She drew small circles over the surface of her iPod, finally stopping and pressing the center button. A loud, strong strumming filled Steve’s ear and he almost fell off his chair.

_“What the hell?!”_

“Just listen!” He did, and he almost fell over again at the words that filled his ears. _“Love me tender, love me sweet, never let me go…”_

“That's a song! That’s music! It’s like a tiny radio!”

“I told you I didn't make it up,” she smiled. Steve drew her into his lap then, wrapping his arms around her tight and kissing her as hard as he could.

“I love you, doll.”

“I love you too.”

They stayed at the table well past sunset, work forgotten as Darcy picked out individual songs for him to listen to, and Steve sat fascinated, drinking them in like a dying man. “You know what this means, right?” she asked as she paused the final song.

“What, Darcy?”

“You're never getting rid of me now.”

“You say that like it was ever in question.” He kissed her slowly, sweetly, drawing them together as completely as he could, until Darcy had to pull away to breathe. “Come to bed with me,” he said, panting down at her.

“Wait, what?” She stood up slowly, blinking down at him. “Steve, are you serious?”

He immediately turned red. “I'm sorry, it was just a— I know I kept pushing you away and I don't blame you if—” he stopped talking as Darcy took his hand and led him to the bedroom.

“I'm not complaining, sweetheart,” she smiled, “just thought you'd never ask.”

 

* * *

* * *

 

#####  **Part 4: Hard Times, Past and Present**

_With WWII, the world returned to its end-of-the-world mentality._

_***_

_December 7 th, 1941_

Bucky stared at the radio, the shock still clear on his face. “I…” he put on his hat and walked to the door. “I need to see my ma, I need to tell her, tell Rebecca…” He walked out the door like a zombie, but Darcy and Steve were too shell-shocked to stop him.

He whirled around and stared at her, horrified. “Darcy, what happened?”

“‘A date which will live in infamy,’” she quoted. It was no longer enough to be dreaming of war, it seemed. They’d been drinking around the radio, listening to the Giants and the Dodgers when the bulletin interrupted with… “Pearl Harbor.” She covered her mouth with her hands to muffle the scream. “No, no, I swear it was next year, I swear to god I thought it was next year.” She wracked her brain, trying to match up dates and events. She knew 1945 was the end of the war, but when did the first troops deploy? When did Steve get accepted into the SSR? Darcy had visited his exhibit once, but she was terrible at history and she'd been mostly focused on the pictures. Why the hell hadn't she looked at any dates? 1941 was important, apparently, but what about 1942? _1943?_

“Darcy!” Steve was suddenly in front of her, forcing her hands on his face and breathing in and out. He wasn't having an asthma attack, which meant something was wrong with her. “Darcy, I need you to breathe for me, doll, ok? Breathe with me.”

She ended her panic attack in a fit of tears, sobbing hysterically into his shirt. “I'm so sorry, Steve. I'm so sorry.”

“It's ok, Soulmate,” he murmured, running his hands up and down her back. “It's ok. You're ok. We’re ok.”

“Steve—”

“We talked about this,” he said, pulling back enough to see her face. “I know you can't tell me anything.”

“I don’t… I don't…” she forced herself to breathe and forced her nails into her palms to keep her voice steady. “The US joins the war. I can't tell you all the details, because I don't remember the dates, but this, the bombing of Pearl Harbor, this is where it starts.”

“We’re joining the war?”

“I can't tell you how it ends, but I think you can guess.”

“We win,” he said firmly. “We have to.”

“We called it World War II. The Great War becomes World War I.” She pulled her hair back and kept breathing. “You're going to be ok; I still can't tell you how I know that, but you come out of this ok. No matter what happens, no matter how dark things get, you come out of this ok.” She looked up at him, pleading, begging for him to understand. “You're going to make a lot of decisions, but trust me when I say things work out. They won't be perfect, and you won't be the same, but you need to trust your instincts, ok? Promise me, Steve, ok?”

“Darcy,” he whispered, pulling her hands into his own, “sweetheart, I know.” He licked his lips, and she could see his eyes starting to shine. “Darcy, my life is already more than ok. It's perfect! I found you, and you found me. It's a miracle that I was lucky enough to meet you, to love you. Darcy, I never thought I would have my own family. I never thought I could have _you.”_ He laughed, wiping away the tears running down his face. “I love you, I've had a chance to love you, and it sounds like I still will, even if I'm 100 years old by the time we meet in the future.”

“Close,” she half-laughed, half-sniffed. “Any time after December 2015 is fair game.”

“Ok, sweetheart,” he said, pressing his lips to her forehead. “I'll follow your orders.”

“Sap,” she grunted, but she smiled anyway.

“But I'm your sap,” he said. His mouth met hers, and it was like a switch was flipped. They lost themselves to their fear and their love, working their clothes off as their kiss became heated, frantic, and suddenly Steve was between her legs, working her stockings down her legs as she struggled to tug his shirt over his head without unbuttoning it. Where laughter would normally take over, it turned to panic, and they couldn't even wait for their bed. They fell into each other on the couch, and even falling to the floor didn't slow them down. Darcy moaned her release into Steve’s shoulder, but she didn't let up, and neither did he, pushing to another orgasm, and another, until they passed out from exhaustion.

They woke up just long enough to get into bed, and make love again, this time tenderly with kisses and tickles, and when they came again, it was whispered gasps and drawn out moans that filled their room.

“Steve?” Darcy whispered, tugging the covers back up around them.

“Yes, Soulmate?”

“I love you.”

There was a strange look on his face, but before Darcy could say something, he took her face in his hands and pressed his forehead to hers. “Marry me,” he breathed.

Darcy felt her heart beat once, twice… “I will.”

* * *

They were married a week later, the result of long lines at city hall, and an overbooking of churches in the aftermath of the bombing. It was a small wedding party, just Sarah, the Barnes, and Colleen, but it was more than enough for Darcy and Steve.

She still spaced out, looked down at the ring on her hand in wonder, making her boss quite frustrated with her, but Darcy couldn't bring herself to care.

_Darcy Rogers_. It still blew her mind that her Soulmate was Steve, that she'd had to go back in time to meet him, that she _married_ him. And yet, that just filled her with a sense of wonder and happiness that made Darcy think there had to be something in the water.

She and Steve talked about the future. For now, they were happy to stay home and fuck like bunnies on a honeymoon, but war was here. The US had declared war on Japan, it was only a matter of time until the rest of the Axis powers were involved. Steve was gonna enlist and his plane was going to go down, and he was gonna wake up in 2012. History never mentioned his Soulmate, so it stood to reason that Darcy would go back to her own time, it was only a question of _when._

She could be gone in the blink of an eye, without warning, and a part of Darcy desperately wanted a little piece of Steve to take with her, just in case the worst came to happen. They weren't particularly enthusiastic about condoms, since Steve had a feeling he wasn't healthy enough to father a child and Darcy hadn't heard anything about him having a kid before the plane went down; the prophylactics went out the window after the rings went on their fingers.

Darcy wanted to stay in the past as long as she could, but Steve wanted her to go, stay somewhere safe, especially with talk of America joining the war and the probability of him enlisting.

“You're not trying to talk me out of it,” he complained after a fight with Bucky over the topic. “You don't think I'm too weak to fight.”

Darcy refused to tell him anything, only reminding him to trust his instincts and giving Bucky a piece of her mind the next time she saw him. She wanted their little bubble of peace to last as long as possible, even if it meant threatening Bucky with her brick.

* * *

_December 20 th, 1941_

“Lew— Rogers!” Darcy looked up to see Mr. Belmont pointing at the front lobby. “You got a visitor.”

Darcy put down the coffee pot and walked to find Bucky pacing the entrance, his hat a tangled mess in his hands. “Buck?”

He looked down at her with tears running down his face and Darcy felt her legs go weak. “Steve?”

He shook his head and wiped his nose on his sleeve. “It's Sarah.”

***

They rushed to her apartment to see Steve a balled-up mess on a kitchen chair. “They wouldn't let her leave the ward,” he said woodenly. “She's sick.”

“But it can't be true,” Darcy cried. “We had dinner with her yesterday, all she had was a slight cough!”

“The ward called to let us know. Apparently, she’s been coughing up blood—” Steve broke down in tears, with long, ragged gasps that immediately turned into an asthma attack. Bucky led him to the couch and Darcy folded herself in on one side, Bucky flanking the other. They huddled on the couch until he could breathe again, but the only sound that left any of them was whispers of prayer and nearly-silent sobs.

“They need to let us see her.” Darcy finally pulled herself away from Steve and Bucky and marched to the hallway phone. “We're going to see her now.”

Darcy was determined to see Sarah, and even all the people in the tuberculosis ward couldn’t keep her from getting in. She made Steve and Bucky wear masks, breaking her rule about the future to explain TB to them the way she had Sarah when she’d stared working there a few months ago. The staff caved, their only rule being one visitor at a time. Darcy went first, to give Steve the most time possible. “You shouldn’t be here” was the first thing Sarah said when she saw her, “especially not Steve.”

“Neither should you,” Darcy said, taking her hand. “You need to get out of here. This thing can’t do well in incubation.”

“Don’t worry, Darcy,” she said. “They keep me on bed rest. I can only use the restroom once a day.”

“That’s not how you fix it! You need antibiotics, you need—” Sarah cut her off with a hand.

“Darcy, you have made me the happiest mother-in-law to ever exist. Take care of my boy; I know he’s strong, but sometimes that’s not enough. He’ll need you by his side to keep him going.”

“Don’t talk like that,” she begged. “Please, Sarah, you’ll be ok.”

“I’m not leaving this room again,” Sarah said firmly. “I need to make peace with that, so don’t feel sad on my behalf.”

“You say that like it’s an option,” she tried to joke, and it failed.

Sarah wiped the tears from Darcy’s eyes. “Darcy, death comes for us all, but it’s not anything to be afraid of. I get to see my Joseph again.” Her voice cracked, and she started to cry. “You don’t know how much I want to see him again, and I’m glad God gave me enough time to see Steve to your hands, but _a storin,_ it’s time for me to go.”

They talked a bit more, mainly tears and kisses and hugs, and then Darcy switched turns with Bucky. They waited for Steve as long as the ward let them, and they walked like a tipsy trio back to their apartment. Bucky insisted on staying with them, on the couch, and Steve and Darcy talked long into the night. They talked about Sarah, about Darcy leaving one day, about the future Steve would have.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he confessed. “I don’t want to imagine life without you.”

“You’re strong,” she said. “So much stronger than you know, Soulmate. I love you, more than you will ever know, but you have to promise me that you’ll stay that strong, even if I’m not around.”

They laid in silence, watching the moon’s trek through their window, and Steve spoke first. “I don’t want to be alone.”

“You’ll always have me,” she said immediately. “Even when you can’t see me.” She bit her lip, wondering if she should tell him about how much she’d been wishing for them to make a family, how much she wished for them to have a baby, but the idea of losing her child to the past, or depriving Steve of a baby in the future, kept her tongue still. “I love you.”

“I love you.” Their words dissolved into kisses, into desperate touches and heartbroken pain, and even the knowledge that Bucky was just outside the door wouldn’t stop them from finding comfort in each other.

* * *

_December 21 st, 1941_

It was the most mundane thing. They were walking to the corner automat for some breakfast, as neither Steve nor Darcy nor Bucky felt like cooking. They were about to turn past an alley, past the same alley where Darcy had been found, when a bright blue light filled the space. Darcy instinctively pushed the boys down, throwing herself over them. The light dimmed and she looked up to see— _“Jane?!”_

_“Darcy!”_ Jane threw herself at her, knocking her back to the ground with a painful thump, and Darcy sobbed into her arms. “Darcy, you’re here!”

“Jane, you found me!” Before she could say much more, Jane hauled her to her feet, dragging her to a portal of light inside the alley, and Darcy yanked her arm out of her grip. “Jane, wait!”

“There’s no time! The portal closes in a minute!”

“What?! That’s not enough time, you need to come back, or keep it open—”

“I don’t have enough juice, we need to go now.”

“Darcy.” She turned to see Steve smiling down at her. “It’s ok, you need to go.”

“But— but—”

Jane looked over her friend’s shoulder and her jaw dropped. “Captain Rogers? _Sergeant Barnes?!”_

“You need to go.”

“Not yet, please, not yet.”

“You’ll see me sooner than you think, doll.” He kissed her hard and pushed her to Jane. “Run.”

“December 2015,” she yelled as Jane yanked her through the portal. “I love you!”

She couldn’t hear his reply.

* * *

* * *

#####  **Part 5: Belated Christmas Miracle**

_After WWII, the world became as we know it now. Most people keep their Marks covered, but hardly a secret from friends and family; dating for fun became commonplace. We can now observe the main mentalities about Soulmates— the Disney movies version, where instant love reigns supreme; Team Free Will, where people refuse to let their Marks dictate who they love; and the medium in between, where dating is fun, but the hope of a One-True-Mate is held._  

***

_December 21 st, 2016_

They landed on a large, metal platform decorated with designs like the kind the Bifrost left behind. Darcy became intimately acquainted with them by throwing up all over them. “Jane?”

“Darcy!” She hauled her up with a cry and hugged her, puke be damned. “I found you, I can’t believe I found you!”

She let herself get lost in Jane’s embrace, hugging her back as hard as she could and sobbing the entire time. “How did you find me? Was it Steve? Did he tell you where I was?”

Jane pulled away from her slowly. “Steve?”

“He’s my Soulmate, Janie.” Even crying wasn’t enough to keep her from beaming. “I found him, and I told him that he could find me after December. What day is it? How long was I gone? Where’s Steve?”

Jane looked horrified. “Darcy… It’s December 21st, 2016. You’ve been gone a year.”

Darcy blinked and she was suddenly on the floor. “How… a year?” She looked up at her friend and saw the sallowness of her face, the dark circles under her eyes orders of magnitude beyond her usual type, and she was so skinny… “I’ve been gone a year?”

“I’ve been trying to find you since you’ve been gone. Tony’s been helping, mainly with funding, but with everything that’s been happening—” she threw herself down at Darcy again. “Oh, Darcy, I’m so glad you’re here!”

Darcy looked around. She was in the same lab, but there was an eerie emptiness to it, like it was a small prison instead of a lavish laboratory. “Where’s Steve?”

“Darcy—”

“I told Steve to look for me,” she said, suddenly scared. “Where’s Steve? Where’s the rest of your team? And Tony? You can’t be doing experiments by yourself.”

“Steve’s not here.”

“What? How? I told him—”

“After you went missing, we tried to get you back. I was contacted by Captain Rogers, telling me you were in the 40s, but there wasn’t a way to track you, to get the signal to where you were. He was furious, and ordered Tony off the team to look for you.”

“Oh, Steve… but that doesn’t explain why he’s not here, or at least Tony.”

Jane looked almost chastised. “I got the location signal from your iPod when it got turned on; I didn’t tell Tony I was getting you today. He’s with Colonel Rhodes, adjusting his prosthetics.”

_“Prosthetics?!”_

“He got hurt… Darcy, things changed a lot while you were gone. There was a big fight,” Jane said softly. “Back in June; the UN wanted the Avengers to be held responsible for their actions in Sokovia and DC and Wakanda—”

“What happened in Wakanda?”

“There was an attack in May, they were trying to save people and a bomb went off. Tony and the Captain fought and the team took sides and there was this giant mess and they got sent to the Raft—”

“Jane!” Darcy grabbed her friend’s hands and put them to her face. “Jane, I need to get to Steve!”

Jane burst into tears and threw her arms around Darcy. _“He’s dead!”_

Darcy felt herself go cold. “No. No. No no no no no no NO!” She tried to keep from hyperventilating, but the only people who could calm her down were Bucky or Steve and she needed Steve and “—no, he’s not dead, Jane, he’s not, he can’t be, I just left him, I told him that everything would be ok, I told him he just needed to find me after December, I told him—”

“Darcy, after the Avengers fought, they put Falcon, Barton and Wanda and Lang in a maximum-security prison called the Raft; Steve and Barnes—”

“Wait, what!” Darcy felt her knees go weak again. “They found him?! They found Bucky?!”

“Darcy, they broke everyone out of the Raft and General Ross started a manhunt. They found them in Poland and there was a fight and… the UN declared Steve and Barnes killed in action.”

“No.”

“Darcy.”

“No. I refuse to believe it.” Darcy shook her head, feeling lightheaded and nauseous and she forced herself to stay calm. “It’s not real. I know Steve, and he loves me. He wouldn’t die when I haven’t come back yet.”

“Darcy, that makes no sense.”

“Him dying makes no sense!” she screamed before turning around and vomiting all over the floor.

Jane helped her off the platform and into the hallway. “Let’s get the doctors to check you out, ok? And then you can hit Tony with your brick all you want.”

***

“Clean bill of health, you're just underweight,” the doctor said, skimming over Darcy’s chart. “We want you to focus on putting the weight on slowly, and in healthy ways- lean meats, grains, leafy greens, etc. Make sure to avoid fish, you may have only one cup of coffee a day, _decaf if you must_ , and drink plenty of water. You're going to hate yourself for going to the restroom every ten minutes, but it's a feeling I'm afraid you're going to have to live with, Miss Lewis.”

“Great bedside manner, doc,” she deadpanned, glaring at Jane. “Why no fish?”

“Too much mercury,” the physician said, tying a few things into her tablet. “Now, I'm going to give you some vitamins, and when you run out, just let us know and we'll refill your prescriptions.”

“Prescriptions?” Jane was bemused. “Why does she need prescriptions?”

“We want to make sure you have the best building blocks available,” the doctor smiled. “And that seems to be all, ladies. We can schedule an ultrasound in late January, I know we're excited.”

There was silence.

“Miss Lewis?”

“Did you say ultrasound?” Darcy whispered.

“Yes.” It was the doctor’s turn to sound confused. “We can do one now, but it's unlikely to be too different than the one used to confirm your pregnancy—”

_“I’M PREGNANT?!”_

The doctor closed her mouth with a small ‘oh.’

_“You're pregnant?!”_ Jane screeched.

“I take it you didn't know?”

“Of course I didn't fucking know!” Darcy cried, her arms tight around her stomach. “What… how…?”

“You're three months along,” the doctor rushed, “given the last possible date of your period, you likely conceived in September—”

“September,” Darcy whispered, looking up at a dumbstruck Jane. “September. I'm… Jane, I'm…”

The color rushed back to Jane’s face and she squealed. “I'm going to be an aunt!”

It was as if all of Darcy’s hopes came true, and she let herself bask in the happiness of her surprise. Her child. Steve’s child. Steve…

“He’s not gone.” Of that, Darcy was at least certain. “He’s not dead.”

“Darcy—”

She whirled around and yanked her shirt down to her chest. “My Mark is black. It’s not faded. He’s not dead.”

Jane opened and closed her mouth a few times. “Ok, so the UN lied. Again.” She pulled out her phone and frowned. “I don’t know what to do.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know what to do? Call Tony.”

“And tell him what? Guess who’s back from the past and carrying your enemy’s baby?”

“Tony wouldn’t do that.”

“The Tony I know wouldn’t declare war on his friends.” She got off the infirmary bed, remembering what had happened the last time she’d done the same thing, and it filled her with a renewed sense of determination. “I’m finding Steve. Are you in?”

“Of course.”

“Good. Now we just need to know where to start.”

* * *

It wasn’t a Christmas miracle. Darcy had reappeared just a few days before, and she was Jewish anyway, so she didn’t set too much stock on an arbitrary date. She did, however, have a lot of faith in someone else, even if it took her too long to find him.

“Hello, Vision.”

“Ms. Lewis!” The android looked as surprised to see her as she did him. She’d only met him once before, on a tour he’d been doing of SI with Tony not long after his ‘birth.’ They didn’t have the easy camaraderie between them like she’d had with Jarvis, but she was betting on him having more emotion and being easier to reach than Pepper (because plan A had failed _spectacularly_ ). “I am glad to see you. I did not know you had been rescued!”

“Thanks,” she smiled, motioning for Jane to keep watch at the door of his room at the Avengers Training Facility.

“What are you doing here?”

“It’s important, Vision; we’re keeping things on the DL, for DL, but it’s for a good reason, I promise.” He looked confused at her slang, and it triggered a painful pang for Steve. “I know you were on Team Iron Man during the whole ‘Civil War’ incident.” She used air-quotes, but he didn’t seem to mind, so she kept going. “I need your help, though, and you can’t tell Tony.”

“I am uncomfortable withholding information from Master Stark.”  
”And I am uncomfortable having swollen ankles and cravings for cracker pie, but we keep on truckin’. I need to get in contact with Natasha Romanoff.”

That made Vision freeze. “Miss Romanoff is a wanted fugitive across twenty countries.”

“I know, but I need to talk to her.”

“Why?”

“It’s important.”

“Miss Lewis—”

“I need to talk to her about Steve Rogers.”

Vision stopped and frowned. “Captain Rogers is dead.”

Darcy pulled her shirt down. “No, he’s not.”

Vision looked at the dark Mark with confusion. “I don’t understand.”

“He’s my Soulmate. My Mark hasn’t faded, which means he isn’t dead. I need to find him, and I think Natasha can help.”

_“Darcy!”_ Jane hissed from the hallway. “You weren’t supposed to tell him that!”

“Keep watch!” She turned back to Vision and put on her best game-face. “Whatever you want, I’ll find a way to give it to you, but please, tell me you have a way to contact Natasha.”

“I…” he sat down on his bed and looked down at his hands. His silence grew so long that Darcy was sure he was going to say no and call down Tony for her troubles. But instead, he gazed up at her. “Wanda.”

Darcy was… not expecting that. “You want Wanda?” She’d met the little witch a few times over the last year she’d been around. She was nice, if a bit shy, and Darcy had a feeling she knew where Vision was going.

He ran a hand over his covered forearm. “I need to talk to her, apologize for what happened in the airport. If I get through to Ms. Romanoff, can you send a message to Wanda for me?”

She nodded. “Anything.”

Vision explained he knew some of her old aliases and contact points, and he’d do his best to make contact through one of them. “I’ll call you when I get through,” he promised. Darcy thanked him with a kiss and a promise of her own, and she and Jane vanished into the night.

***

_December 31 st, 2016_

Darcy had given up on trying to understand how 2016 had become such a shitty year—what the hell were people smoking when they voted in November?!—and was waiting for her phone to ring. Jane told her she was being ridiculous. Darcy told her to shut up.

They were at Jane’s mom’s house in London, watching Toy Story on mute, when the phone rang. Darcy dove for it, nearly knocking her teeth loose by hitting the coffee table with her mouth. “Hello?”

_“There’s a car waiting for you on the first floor. Dress warm.”_

The call cut off and Darcy raced to her room for a jacket. She dragged Jane down the stairs to a dark blue car, and her mouth fell open at the driver. “Sam Wilson?”

“Hop in, Lewis, you too, Foster.” They clambered in and Sam drove them out of the city. Where, neither woman had an idea, but since Steve’s literal wing-man was driving, they felt safe.

Sam pulled up to a little house in the suburbs, too normal-looking to be anything but nefarious, but Darcy was too wired to care. She’d barely been able to sit still the entire ride, not even able to make small-talk like Jane. She flew out of the car and raced to the house, ignoring Jane calling her name behind her. She pounded on the door and Natasha opened it, coolly looking her up and down. She raised an eyebrow when she got to her middle, and a smirk ticked up corner of her mouth. “Come in, Lewis.”

She led her to the living room, where a small Christmas tree still stood in the corner and Wanda was playing a videogame with another man, who Darcy recognized as Scott Lang. “Darcy?”

Darcy nodded and gave the girl a hug. “I need to talk to you later.”

Wanda’s eyes grew wide, but before she could say anything the kitchen door slammed open and a large man stormed out. “Steve!” she warned, but then he saw her.

He stopped, nearly falling against the wall, and Darcy walked up to him. “Steve.” He wasn’t the same, he wasn’t her tiny husband with too bony shoulders and perfectly combed hair, but she knew those eyes. Those, she’d recognize anywhere. “Steve.”

“Darcy?”

She wrapped her arms around him, oh, she couldn’t reach around him, and that was enough to make her burst into tears and grab hold of him tight. He did the same, lifting her in his arms, off the floor and he pressed his mouth to hers in a hot, searing kiss. Her knees were weak, as the always were when he kissed her, and she recognized those lips, and those hands, and she pulled back with cry. “Steve!”

“Darcy. My Darcy. My Soulmate.”

“My Mate,” she agreed, whimpering as he kissed her again. His hands grabbed her tighter, and she squeaked at the pressure. “Too tight!”

He put her down at once, letting her breathe again and cry some more. “I’m sorry, I know how to control my strength, but I just—”

Darcy saw the moment he looked at her properly. She undid the tie of her jacket and pulled it open. She was still underweight, but 21st century food did wonders and she was quickly gaining a lot of the mass she had lost. The little pudge around her stomach she’d attributed to a pay-raise in 1941 turned out to be a different sort of growth, and her tight dress showed off her tiny baby-bump with pride. “About that…”

“Darce…”

“You’re going to be a father.” She lost her breath again as he picked her up and swung her around with pride, pressing kisses to every part of her face and hands, and even dropping to his knees to kiss her stomach. Darcy ran her fingers through his hair, nodding thankfully at Jane and Natasha as they herded everyone out of the room. “Are you happy?”

“Darcy, I… I… I don’t have any words.”

“I do, sweetheart. I love you.”

He got back up to his feet and kissed her again. “I love you, Darcy, so much. You have no idea how much.”

“Enough to lose yourself a little along the way,” she said, noting that he hung his head a bit with shame. “But you don’t need to worry, sweetheart, I’m here.”

There would be plenty of time to talk, to reconcile. She still needed to see Bucky and explain, and the sooner she talked with Wanda, the better, and she needed to thank Natasha and everyone else. She knew Steve and Tony couldn’t stay at odds forever, especially if Thor ever made it back from Asgard to explain the Norn situation he’d seen. Peace didn’t seem destined to stick around for long, especially now that Steve and Darcy were together again.

But there would be more to celebrate, starting with the little bundle of cells growing somewhere south of her belly-button. She and Steve were together again, they were a family, and they were going to add on. It wasn’t 1941 anymore.

And this time? She wasn’t going anywhere.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays!


End file.
